


shadow on my mind

by golden_geese



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: North Dakota, Other, Pining, also mandy and brian aren't actually In It they're just mentioned multiple times, dennis is a bastard man :/, one sided mutual pining, season 13, superbowl, there's no dialogue in this fic for the first time ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 18:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16498073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_geese/pseuds/golden_geese
Summary: superbowl sunday in north dakota. dennis is watching a football game alone for the first time in his entire life. it doesn't go well.





	shadow on my mind

_but even if we won't admit it to ourselves  
we'll walk upon these streets and think of little else  
i won't show my face here anymore  
i won't show my face here anymore  
all that's left behind  
is a shadow on my mind _

He almost hadn’t wanted the Eagles to go to the Super Bowl. Felt a little defeated when he found out they would be.

Any other year, he would be sitting around the bar with the gang-- making plans, making riot juice and funnelling it into cheap water bottles, making memories. He’d be dressing up in green with them, cringing and/or laughing through whatever shenanigans befell them on their way to the game-- because they could never make it anywhere without about ten hiccups.

Now he makes it everywhere without any hiccups.

Or at least, he makes it from his shitty tiny apartment to his shitty tiny bartender job and back. He makes it to Mandy’s house to pick Brian up on Wednesdays and every other weekend. He makes it to the grocery store to buy beer and cereal and milk and frozen pizza and kid snacks for Brian. Shitty rented car that he just hates. It’s too small; it’s not a Range Rover. It’s “safe”. It’s “good for kids”. 

(It’s “an ugly dulled shade of silver with stupidly-shaped rear view mirrors and scratchy upholstery”.)

He slams its door shut. _The one year I’m not in Philly,_ he thinks. Realizes what he just thought; amends it. _The first year I’m not in Philly._

Of course he considered going back-- _going home_ \-- for the game. For weeks he fell asleep imaging it; imagining Dee smiling, surprised, and hugging him. Imagining Frank and Charlie welcoming him home. Imagining climbing back into his forest green Range Rover and making the drive between Paddy’s and his apartment, blasting 80s, getting mad at traffic, something North Dakota has apparently never heard of.

Imagining the bewilderment and relief and happiness on Mac’s face. 

He even imagined convincing Mandy to let him take Brian-- how cool would that be, to take your son to the super bowl?

No doubt, it would be a huge surprise. He’d told them he was leaving forever. Leaving his sister and his might-as-well-call-him dad and his silly ghoul friend and his bar and his car and his Mac. Because… because leaving forever, that’s something normal people do. It’s just growing up and moving on, really. Completely normal. To leave everyone you love forever.

He lingers outside his car. Affords a glance to the car seat in the back. At first, he felt proud to drive around with it. Felt very adult and official and responsible. Not only does that man with great hair and piercing blue eyes have a kid, he also cares about said kid’s safety. Local Hero coming through. Make way for the Local Dad Hero.

Now he feels conspicuous. Judged. Almost takes it out of the car when he doesn’t have Brian.

(Doesn’t-- too much work.)

He turns. Crunches gravel beneath his sneakers as he makes his way to the apartment building.

It’s quiet-- it’s a quiet street. Every street in North Dakota feels like a quiet street. Maybe the entire goddamn state is just one huge quiet street. Even on Superbowl Sunday, it’s a quiet street. It could be armageddon and it would likely still be a quiet street. 

And Dennis has nothing to do, nobody to be with. Which can now describe his entire life.

(Save for Wednesdays and every other weekend.)

Last weekend he took Brian to Build-a-Bear Workshop, where Brian chose a panda and named it, for some reason, Glue. Dennis watched the worker take the panda skin off a pile of other panda skins and stick a metal tube where its asshole would be if it had one. He’d almost laughed. But he didn’t. Because he had a toddler with him. 

Every weekend he has Brian, he takes him somewhere. Tires him out. Usually ends up carrying the sleeping kid out of the car. Feels relief that he managed to get through the entire time Brian was awake without ruining the kid’s life somehow.

(He’s running out of ideas for things to do with Brian on their weekends.) 

This weekend is Mandy’s. They’re going to a Superbowl party at her brother’s place, she told Dennis when he dropped Brian off at her place last Wednesday night. She half-heartedly invited him. An afterthought. He told her he had to work. Which is half a lie. His shift ended after the lunch rush.

He unlocks his door. Lets himself in. He can’t not watch it. It’s his team. 

He unbuttons his scratchy black uniform button-down and replaces it with a tee shirt. Takes his time. Very slowly puts his cereal and milk and beer and fruit snacks and apple juice and peanut butter and Teddy Grahams and frozen pizza and Skittles away. Brian isn’t supposed to have candy unless it’s a special occasion, but the kid loves Skittles, and what are deadbeat dads for if not to give you stuff your mom won’t let you have normally? 

(It’s our secret, he always tells Brian when he gives him Skittles. Make sure you wash the colors off your hands before you go back to Mom.)

When he finally turns the TV on, he’s missed the first few minutes of the game. He chugs his beer. Finishes the first one before the first commercial break even starts. How many commercial breaks are there in a football game? Maybe he should finish a beer between every single commercial break. Maybe he will get drunk enough that he passes out before he sees who wins. Maybe that’s for the best. 

But he can barely get through half of the second beer before he has to put it down for a break. He feels kind of sick. Wonders why.

(Half knows why.)

Two time zones away, Dee and Charlie and Frank and Mac are probably having a great time right now. Probably getting drunk, decked out in green, throats going hoarse from yelling and cheering and booing. If the Eagles win, they’ll be celebrating for weeks. 

Maybe the Eagles won’t win. Maybe the Patriots will win and everything will go back to normal tomorrow.

He sits through the first few commercial breaks. Manages to finish the second beer. Opens a third.

He could call. He left his phone in Philly and got a new one in North Dakota, so nobody at home has his number, but he remembers Dee’s and Mac’s. Thinks he does, at least. He could call. Could ask them if they’re at the game, ask them how they’re doing, tell them about how Brian’s favorite color is yellow and how he likes Skittles and how he chose a panda and named it Glue. 

(Not really, though. He couldn’t, really. Because he left forever.)

The Eagles are scoring. They’re doing well. Charlie must be drinking beer, eating milk steak, and wearing his green man costume. He almost smiles at the memories. 

(He doesn’t.)

Any other year, he can’t help but think as he watches the Patriots miss a touchdown. Any other year and he would have been at the game. Any other year and he and Mac would be high fiving at every score, making fun of Charlie for doing his brown/yellow/green ritual, drinking beer and riot juice like the world was ending. And if the Eagles won, he and Mac would probably end up black out drunk and barely conscious, kissing slowly for hours, fumbling to get their pants off, falling asleep tangled up in each other. And he would feel Mac’s hands in his hair. Mac’s eager gasps against his neck. And in the morning, they would act like it never happened. 

Maybe if Dennis was home this year to have desperate drunken sex with him, though, Mac wouldn’t even deny that it happened this time. He’s out now, after all.

Dennis closes his eyes tight. Doesn’t care that he misses a big touch down.

The game goes on. On and on and on. He realizes he hasn’t watched a football game alone in years. Maybe ever. Tries to remember the last one, even, he watched without Mac-- can’t. Football has always been a group activity. In fact, other than the four years of college when he watched with his frat brothers, he doesn’t think he’s watched a Super Bowl without Mac and Charlie since before they met. His first game alone, and it’s the only time the Eagles are playing in the Super Bowl. The biggest game ever. And he somehow doesn’t even give a single shit. 

Almost gives a negative shit instead-- almost, genuinely, hopes the Patriots win so things can go back to normal. So he can go back to thinking about nothing, nothing, nothing, other than finding places to take Brian on the weekends and getting to work on time and hiding all his dysfunctionality from Mandy. So he can go back to not thinking about Philadelphia ever.

To not thinking about Dee, Charlie, Frank, the bar, his car, and Mac. Ever.

No such luck.

Eventually, He watches the Eagles win. Clenches his jaw. Finishes his beer, which has gone lukewarm.

His phone buzzes. It startles him.

He reaches for it. Unlocks the screen.

[TEXT: MANDY] I know you’re at work, but they must have the game on right? The Eagles won! Yay! You must be thrilled!!

Mandy, with her double exclamation marks and her enthusiasm and her genuine effort to be friends so they can give Brian the happiest least stressful childhood possible. He almost throws his phone against the wall. Hears in his head what the splintering crack would sound like. How the phone would clatter against the plasticky fake wood floor and break.

Instead, he texts her back, typing slowly with one thumb and trying to mirror her enthusiasm. 

[TEXT] Yes! I am thrilled!

He puts his phone face-down on the side of his couch. Runs a hand through his hair. Turns the TV off so he doesn’t have to hear the Philadelphia fans cheering anymore. So he doesn’t have to _think_ about Philadelphia anymore. Case closed. Game over. Moving on.

Moving on from Dee, from Charlie, from Frank, from Paddy’s Pub, from his forest green ‘93 Range Rover, from Mac.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a request from my tumblr! follow me at golden-geese.tumblr.com!  
> title is from "these streets" by bastille which is...... such a lonely dennis song :/


End file.
